


Robbaery Jukebox

by Nectere



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/F, F/M, M/M, Modern Westeros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-08-23 01:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8308399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nectere/pseuds/Nectere
Summary: A series of ficlets set in a modern Westeros, focused around surprisingly retiring rock star Robb Stark and ambitious medical intern Margaery Tyrell.





	1. Hey There Delilah

_Don't you worry about the distance_  
_I'm right there if you get lonely_  
 _Give this song another listen_  
 _Close your eyes_  
 _Listen to my voice, it's my disguise_  
 _I'm by your side_

[Hey There Delilah, Plain White Ts]

* * *

 Margaery was exhausted. She had done a full forty-eight hour rotation in the pediatric surgery ward and it was enough to make her heart hurt. All reason said she should have been able to fall into bed and fall quickly and firmly to sleep and yet, now, in the middle of the night, sleep eluded her. She growled and tossed and turned, squishing her pillow this way and that way, trying to find the right spot in bed, even covering her head to darken the already pitch black room. 

It was all Robb’s fault. He had to go and get her all used to sharing a bed and cuddling on her worst days, bringing her strong coffee on mornings when she didn’t want to move, or letting her hide her face in his chest when she lost a patient. That would be all well and good if he were actually _here,_ but  _no_ , Mr. Perfect had to hit it big and go off on tour with his cousin, sister, and foster brother. 

She growled again, causing Grey Wind, the couples’s wolfdog, to whine and climb up on the bed beside her. Grey Wind nosed pointedly at her iPod charging near her bed, and Margaery groaned in answer. She wanted to be stronger than this, not some pining girlfriend, but sleep was a bigger necessity than pride at the moment. After all, who would tell, Grey Wind? She clicked play.

“ _Hey sweetheart. I know this tour is a huge thing for us, but I want you to know I’ll be thinking of you, no matter where in Westeros I am….shut_ up _, Theon!…So I got everyone to agree to make this for you, in the hopes you won’t forrget me while I’m gone and fall for some dashing doctor.”_   Robb’s voice made her smile, despite the amount of times she had heard this. 

“ _You mean she finally comes to her senses and dumps your arse.”_  Theon snarked. 

“ _I know where you sleep, Theon.”_   Arya snapped in return. 

“ _Yeah, you know Margaery saved your arse the last time you shagged the wrong groupie.”_ Jon added. “ _You piss her off and she may not slip you those broad-spectrum antibiotics next time.”_

“ _Would you guys shut up?!”_ Robb’s voice asked plaintively. “ _I’m trying to be romantic here!”_

Obediently, The Direwolves quieted down, and the room filled with acoustic versions of their album, and Margaery felt herself relax, listening to Robb singing washing the tension of a horrible day from her body. She fell asleep by the third song, wrapped in dreams where they were together again.


	2. Not While I'm Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catelyn Stark has always been protective of her children and takes the opportunity to visit the prodigals in King's Landing when Ned has to visit Baratheon Shipping, everything might have been fine...if Robb had advanced warning...and if he hadn't gotten in an accident.

_Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around._  
Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir, not while I'm around.

_No one's gonna hurt you,_  
_No one's gonna dare._  
_Others can desert you,_  
_Not to worry, whistle, I'll be there._  
  
_Demons'll charm you with a smile, for a while,_  
_But in time..._  
_Nothing can harm you_  
_Not while I'm around..._

* * *

Catelyn didn’t like her children to be so far from her. When her three eldest had left to go to college in King’s Landing, she clung all the tighter to Bran and Rickon, but she never stopped longing for the other three to come home. When Ned had wanted to go south and wrangle some more supplies from Baratheon Shipping, she demanded to come along, and he gave in, though she knew he either knew or suspected what she wanted. Stannis was kind enough to put them up in his house, for all that Selyse seemed to think they were imposing. She didn’t know the other woman that well, however, and it was possible she always looked a bit pinched.

“Let’s go visit Robb.” She suggested over breakfast in the guest solar. “Your meeting isn’t until eleven.”

Ned sighed. “I suppose we could.” He said after a moment. “But we won’t be able to stay all day.”

Catelyn privately planned to encourage Ned to go off on his own after they had gotten there, but nodded anyway. Even if she left to attend the meeting with her husband, at least she could see her son. “Maybe we can have a dinner with the family here before we head back to Winterfell.” She suggested. “We are staying for a few days, after all.”

“That would be nice.” Ned agreed. “Renly was telling me about a restaurant by the shopping district that he enjoys.”

“See!” Catelyn said with a smile. “It would be silly not to while we’re here.”

* * *

 That was how Robb Stark opened his door to a knock that morning and found himself face to face with his parents. He was suddenly glad he had thrown a shirt on before opening the door, even if he hadn’t gone so far as to button it -- something he quickly did now. “Mum! Dad! What are you doing here?”

“Your mother wanted to stop and see you before our meeting at Baratheon Shipping.” Ned explained, with a little shrug. “You know how she worries.”

Robb nodded in answer as he hugged his mother, who was busy exclaiming over his beard. He glanced back over his shoulder, and then smiled as he let his parents into the loft apartment. “Would you like some coffee?

“That would be lovely!” Catelyn replied, and settled at the kitchen table, watching her son pour coffee from the coffeemaker into three cups. They chatted for a bit, mostly about Robb’s life and his band, how his sisters were and the business of employing, housing and keeping Winter Town and the North running. She was surprised how neat and light the loft was. She had been anticipating a bachelor pad with clothes strewn everywhere and empty pizza boxes perched precariously about. Hopefully Arya and Sansa were doing just as well. She knew Sansa shared an apartment with Maege Mormont’s eldest, which reassured her, but Arya had been decidedly vague about where she was living. At least Robb had it right, even if she thought the band a waste of his mind and education. Just as she was quite sure things were going well for her son, a loud obnoxious beeping came from another room, followed by a thump and a feminine voice swearing: “Seven hells!”

Robb glanced up and flushed, but didn’t say anything.

Catelyn raised an eyebrow at her son. “What…?” Before she could finish, however, a girl emerged from the room, dressed in wrinkled, rumpled clothes that looked like they had spent the night on the floor, and trying to smooth her hair without much success.

Robb handed the girl coffee in a disposable cup. “Here.”

“Thanks.” The girl said blearily. “And thanks for last night.”

“Mhmm.” Robb replied. “Have a good day.”

“‘’Oo too.” The girl yawned, leaving the apartment with her eyes half-closed and not even noticing anyone else was there.

Ned quickly stood up as well, before Catelyn could say anything. “We should be going too, we have to get across the financial district to get to the meeting.”

“Okay, Dad.” Robb replied, with a relieved smile.

“Tell Arya we’re putting together a family dinner on Sunday.” Ned requested.

“I’ll let her know.” Robb promised.

* * *

 “Thank you, Sansa.” Catelyn said, as her daughter handed her a glass of water. “I’m so glad to see that you’re doing well here.”

“I really am, Mum.” Sansa reassured her as she retook her seat on the sofa beside Dacey. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Catelyn smiled at her daughter. “If only your brother and sister were more settled, I’d feel fine going back home.” She admitted. “When we stopped by Robb’s this morning, he had some trollop walking out in last night’s clothes.”

“Oh that was probably just…” Dacey stated, only to cut herself off when Sansa dropped a high heel firmly into her foot.

“Probably just Robb being a gentleman, Mum.” Sansa cut in. “He’s always letting people stay over. Theon’s there at least once a month, when he’s too drunk to make it to his own flat, he’s let Mira Forrester stay when she’s had late night nursing rounds at the hospital, Dacey’s stayed there a few times after movie nights or when we’ve had a fight. He always lets people stay with him when they need a place to crash.”

“Well.” Catelyn hedged. “That _does_ sound like him. He takes after your father. I just worry about him, with all this fame. There are people who would take advantage of him, and Theon isn’t the best influence. I don’t want him to fall into some _trap_.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” Sansa reassured her mother.

“I need to check on dinner.” Dacey said, jumping up. “I’m still not a great cook. Can you give me a hand, Sansa?”

“Sure.” Sansa said easily, following her girlfriend into the kitchen of their apartment. She made sure to close the door behind them just in case.

“What in the name of the old gods was _that_?” Dacey asked, eyebrows raised. “You know full well it was probably just Margaery. They’ve been running her ragged lately.”

“It’s a long story.” Sansa hedged.

“Well, I’ve got to baste this and put the salad together, so get talking.” Dacey replied.

“Robb overheard Margaery telling Mira that she couldn’t think about getting married until after she finished internship.” Sansa explained. “So he hasn’t proposed and hasn’t told our parents about them.”

“So why can’t he just say he has a girlfriend?” Dacey asked, brow knitting in confusion.

“He could, if they weren’t living together.” Sansa said quietly, as if afraid her mother might overhear. “Mum would insist on a wedding right away. She has... _issues_ with living together out of wedlock.”

“We live together.” Dacey pointed out. “And you lived with Joffrey.”

“I lived with Joffrey and his _parents_.” Sansa stressed. “As far as Mum was concerned, Cersei and Robert would keep anything from...happening.”

Dacey snorted. “She had _met_ Robert, right?”

“And as far as we’re concerned, she’s firmly in denial and Dad hasn’t had the heart to explain.” Sansa said, dropping a kiss on Dacey’s nose.

“This has something to do with Jon, doesn’t it?” Dacey said wisely. She was head of security for The Direwolves and had heard some things in her position.

Sansa nodded. “When Aunt Lyanna ran away and was installed in Dorne, none of us knew where she was or what happened to her. Dad figured it out and tracked her down. Having Jon nearly killed her and Uncle Rhaegar couldn’t take responsibility for Jon while Robert was trying to takeover, so she asked Dad to take care of Jon until things calmed down and she and Rhaegar could be together.”

“Why didn’t Ned just tell Catelyn?”

“Aunt Lyanna swore him to secrecy, afraid what it would do if everyone knew Prince Rhaegar not only had an affair on Queen Elia, but had married a second wife, and he agreed. So Mum thought for years until Queen Elia died and Aunt Lyanna came back to Winterfell for Jon that Dad had cheated on her. Sex out of wedlock and bastards are sore subjects with Mum.” Sansa said with a wince.

“That’s why she doesn’t know about Arya and Gendry, isn’t it?” Dacey realised.

“Yep.” Sansa replied, stuffing rolls into a basket. “She’ll flip when she finds out.”

Subject dropped and a kiss stolen, Dacey and Sansa emerged from the kitchen with dinner. Everything was going well until the phone rang.

* * *

 Arya Stark was pacing in the waiting room angrily, grumbling under her breath and glaring at the nurses. “Why won’t they tell us anything?”

“They probably don’t know anything yet.” Jon said in a comforting voice.

“Margaery would tell us what’s going on.” Arya said mutinously. “They said they’d page her.”

“Come sit down, my lady.” Gendry said, tugging on her arm. “I’m sure everything is going to be fine.”

Arya punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Don’t _call_ me that!” She said angrily.

Before anyone could say anything else, Sansa and Dacey arrived, with Ned and Catelyn in tow. “What happened?” Sansa demanded.

Arya glanced at her parents, but answered anyway. “A piece of scaffolding came down, brought some equipment with it. He got trapped underneath it. Other than that, I don’t know, they won’t tell us.”

“Has someone let Margaery know?” Dacey asked, ignoring the elbow she got for that from Sansa. This wasn’t something to play around with, and Margaery would need to know. She, Margaery, Ygritte and Gendry all had their own bond that came from dating a Stark, and as head of Direwolves security, she and Margaery had spent a lot of time together, especially when Dacey had been crushing on Sansa. She had Dacey’s back when Dacey thought she didn’t have a chance. Dacey had her back now.

“Arya tried.” Gendry offered. “They said they paged her.”

“That’s crap.” Dacey said flatly. “Margaery would be here.” She stomped up to the receptionist, who assured her that she had paged Dr. Tyrell, and the group fell into silent contemplation as they waited to hear news.

When the doctor came out of the room, he assured them that Robb would be fine. He had a few cracked ribs and some internal bruising, but that he would recover, thanks to how quickly he had been gotten to the hospital. After assuring them that they would be permitted to see Robb shortly, the doctor, a kindly man with bright eyes, left them be.

The family relaxed, and Catelyn turned her attention to her youngest daughter, crossing the room to hug her. “I’ve missed you, Arya.”

“I’ve missed you too, Mum.” Arya said, squirming uncomfortably. “Robb said we’re having dinner this weekend?”

“That was the plan.” Ned said with a nod. “However, we’ll have to see how your brother is feeling.”

“Introduce us to your friend!” Catelyn suggested in a way that was not really a suggestion at all.

Arya barely avoided wincing. “Mum, Dad, this is Gendry. He does a lot of the fabrication of sets and things for the band.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Gendry.” Catelyn said, shaking his hand, missing the way Jon and Theon traded a look and Sansa was deliberately _not_ looking as her mother went on to make small talk with Gendry. The awkward situation was broken by a nurse coming to check on Robb and informing them that they could go into the room.

The family soon crowded into the room, despite the attempts of protest by the nurse, who seemed too intimidated by the collective celebrity and nobility in front of her. Dacey, remembering what Mira had said about nurses knowing everything and everyone in hospitals, gifted her with a grin by the door, speaking in a low whisper. “Could you tell Margaery Tyrell that Robb’s here? They say they’ve paged her, but…”

“Of course!” The nurse said with a grateful nod. “Lady Margaery...I mean...Dr. Tyrell never looks down on the nurses like most of the interns.” Dacey gave her a grateful smile, and stood guard outside the door with Gendry, letting the family have the time to themselves.

Catelyn sat beside her eldest son’s bed, her hand resting on his, her face worried. Her children were her world, and this was the very thing she feared would happen when they left the safety of Winterfell. Robb was lying in a hospital bed, injured. He would have never been injured if his friends hadn’t convinced him to start that _ridiculous_ band. He had a prestigious business degree, he should be back home, working with Ned, not getting crushed by scaffolding in some theatre in King’s Landing. “You’ll be alright, Robb.” She said softly. “You won’t get hurt again, not while I’m around.”

Arya, Sansa and Jon shared a look; a multitude of childhood memories shared in an instant, some good and some not so good. They all knew just how stubborn Catelyn could be, but Robb had a way of getting what he wanted as well. They could see a war brewing and all three Stark children wanted to be hiding, even if one was only a cousin.

* * *

Dacey reflected that she had never really seen Margaery _run_ before, as the doors to the lift opened and the usually unflappable noblewoman streaked out of it toward the room, completely ignoring the squawking of the woman at the nurse’s station, or a nurse she had nearly blindsided. Of course, Dacey didn’t normally see Margaery at _work_ , either. “Hey.” She said lamely.

“Is he okay?” Margaery demanded, out of breath and pleasantries forgotten. “What happened?”

“The theatre wouldn’t let me do my damn job.” Gendry groused. “They insisted on setting up and preparing everything, and some arse didn’t secure things properly and a piece of scaffolding and part of the set came down. Robb was under it when it came down.”

Margaery’s jaw ticked, but she nodded, and without another word, walked into the room. She had taken a deep breath just before, but it all whooshed out at the sight of Robb on one of the hospital beds. She swallowed hard, but his mother was on one side and Sansa on the other, and she felt adrift, suddenly. Instead, she reached for the chart, flicking through it quickly and efficiently. The girlfriend part of her was horrified by the cracked ribs, broken leg and bruising described, as well as the suspected concussion that would have to be checked for when he regained consciousness, but the doctor in her realised that the damage could have been a lot worse.

“Margaery!” Arya said in relief. “Finally! The woman at the nurses’ station said she paged you _ages_ ago.”

That brought Margaery’s head up and away from the chart in surprise. “No one paged me. A nurse told me Robb was brought in, and I ran straight here.”

“That _wench_.” Arya fumed. “We asked her to page you over two hours ago!”

Margaery narrowed her eyes, and huffed. “I’ll take care of _that_ later.” She said in an annoyed voice. She skimmed over the information one more time and put the chart back.

“How bad is it?” Sansa questioned. She trusted Margaery to tell her the truth more than some strange doctor, just as Arya did.

“As much as I can tell, looking from the chart, it’s not good, there’ll definitely be some time needed to heal and recuperate, and much of the tour will have to be cancelled. We’re looking at six to eight weeks on the leg fracture, and two months on the ribs, at _least_.”

“But he’ll be all right?” Ned asked, from where he was standing against the wall.

Margaery paused, biting her lip. She really shouldn’t give a prognosis, but she wanted to reassure Robb’s family as much as she needed to reassure herself. “Based on what I’m seeing here, yes.” She turned to look at her bruised boyfriend on the bed. “Robb’s incredibly strong-willed and quite stubborn, so I’d put my money on him.”

“Marg?” Robb muttered from the bed, coming back to consciousness hazily. “Grey Wind sitting on my chest again?”

The room let out a collective sigh of relief with a bit of a chuckle in the undertone, and Catelyn squeezed her son’s hand. “You were in an accident, Robb.”

“I was?” Robb said, in confusion. “Mum?”

“I’m here, baby.” Catelyn said in reassurance. “Mum’s here.”

Margaery gestured to Sansa who moved and let her take her place. “You sustained quite a bit of damage, so I’m going to check you for a concussion.” She said, businesslike. She couldn’t be the concerned girlfriend right now. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Margie…” Robb groaned, and then blinked his eyes blearily.

“Not quite.” Margaery said, amused despite herself. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Robb Stark.” Robb answered, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes or remind her of all the times she had used it in far nicer circumstances. “Have you met my parents?”

“I’ve been a bit distracted with you showing up in this condition. Such things can be handled later. I’d rather be sure you’re all right before anything else.” Margaery replied. “Any pain in your head?”

“Bit of a headache.” Robb admitted. “Mum, Dad, this is Lady Margaery Tyrell.”

“On a scale of one to ten?” Margaery prompted, trying to keep him focused.

“About a two in my head, about a five everywhere else.” Robb admitted.

Margaery hummed slightly, that meant about a four and a seven for other people. “Any nausea?”

Robb shook his head and then regretted it, wincing. “No.”

“No sudden movements!” Margaery reprimanded. She then reached into the pocket of her white coat and pulled out her penlight. “I’m going to shine a light in your eyes to check your pupils, if it becomes too much at any point tell me.”

“Usually use that thing to find the toys Grey Wind hides under the couch.” Robb grumbled, slightly uncomfortable, but went along with it anyway. “Margaery, these are my parents, Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Stark.” He introduced as his girlfriend shined light in his eyes from various angles.

Margaery clicked the light off, and then turned to smile at his parents. “A pleasure to meet you, Lord and Lady Stark.” She turned back to Robb. “Now I want you to look straight on at my nose.” She tapped her nose out of habit. “Keep your eyes focused there.”

Robb retaliated with a goofy (and slightly drugged smile) by kissing her on the nose.

“Robb.” Margaery said after a moment. “If you’re not going to cooperate, I’ll have to get another doctor.”

“Okay, fine. Continue Dr. Tyrell.” Robb said in annoyance.

Ned realised, it was the exact same voice he had used as a child when forced to leave the practice yard and go study with Maester Luwin. He looked at his wife and saw the cross tilt to her mouth, and sighed to himself.

She finished the exam, just as the friendly doctor reappeared. “Ah, Doctor Tyrell, how is our patient?”

“Responsive and presenting with a moderate concussion, aside from his other injuries, sir.” Margaery responded, formally.

“Good, good. I was afraid the head trauma might be more severe despite the results of the CT.” The doctor said, easily. He checked a few things and talked about recovery time. The entire time Margaery stood by the side of the bed, across from his mother, running two fingers down his arm in a gesture that was meant to comfort both of them.

“...and while you’re recovering, I don’t want you living alone. I _would_ actually prefer to have you under a Maester’s care, if nothing else.”

“I’ll be taking leave to take care of him.” Margaery said, calmly to the doctor.

“But your internship…!” Robb said abruptly. “You fought hard for that spot, Margie. You can’t just…”

“I can start again in a few months.” Margaery said, in a tone that brooked no argument. “I’ll only be a little behind.”

“That won’t be necessary, Lady Tyrell.” Catelyn said, her voice frosty. “We’ll be taking Robb home to Winterfell. Maester Luwin is one of the best.”

The room went quiet for a moment, as Catelyn glared at the strumpet who had seemingly taken over from the moment she appeared in the room. Catelyn wasn’t a fool, she recognised the girl from that morning and she was going to use any opportunity to get Robb home and the harpy’s claws out of her son.

“Mother, that’s hardly necessary…” Robb said after a moment.

“Nonsense.” Catelyn replied frostily. “Your _friend’s_ career is obviously important to her, and I’d feel better if you were home while you’re injured.”

“You’re welcome to come to Winterfell and join us, Lady Margaery.” Ned said, diffusing the tension. “I’m sure I can pull some strings and have you continue your internship in Winter Town or White Harbour.”

“Well!” The doctor said, oblivious to the tension. “I’m glad that’s taken care of! I’m sure you’ll be glad for your own bed after the observation is finished.”

"Won't that be lovely." Catelyn said pointedly.

“I’m sure.” Robb echoed weakly.


	3. Take Me Home Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery heads to Winterfell with Robb and his parents.

_I get frightened in all this darkness_

_I get nightmares, I hate to sleep alone_

_I need some company, a guardian angel_

_To keep me warm when the cold winds blow_

_I can feel you breathe_

_I can feel your heart beat faster_

_Take me home tonight_

_I don't want to let you go till you see the light_

_Take me home tonight_

* * *

 Margaery sat worriedly beside Robb’s bed, wondering again at how different this felt from every other time she had been in this hospital. She knew mortality well. She had all but shaken hands with The Stranger on A&E rotations. The man lying broken in that bed had shoved her in the shower fully clothed and turned the water on, when she refused to cry over the first patient she had lost. Their relationship had still been new, and she was trying her damnedest to be strong and confident and brush it off -- but he had given her a place to hide. Somehow the fact that _he_ was hurt changed the game, and took away the ability to be vulnerable that he had brought out in her. So she sat and watched.

Catelyn had always known that going South was a bad idea for her children. She and her husband had raised them in the North, far from Southern intrigues and politics. They didn’t know the kind of posturing that went on, not really. Poor Sansa had her heart broken by a bad breakup with Joffrey Baratheon that she still refused to talk to her mother about, and Robb, well...Robb had been fine before the band. Now he was famous as well as from a Great House and already the gold diggers were out, and her beloved first boy didn’t know any better.

She knew all about House Tyrell, any southerner did. They sat in their ill-gotten palace, a gift of royal favour despite others having better claim, and presided over a house of false chivalry and decadence. Rich and ambitious, they sought to be ever moreso. She had been cross with Ned at first for inviting Margaery North with them, but then she remembered just how forbidding and unwelcoming Winterfell had been for her, at first. Northern cold was bitter, and she knew it would be a true test, and she would make sure Margaery didn’t pass. Lynesse Hightower was the girl’s own aunt, after all, and she had drained Bear Island and House Mormont dry before being the reason Jorah went into exile. Catelyn would let nothing like that happen to her son.

* * *

 The drive to Winterfell was as long and awkward as Margaery had feared, but she kept her best social smile on her face, even in the cramped SUV that unlike Garlan’s, was made for utility rather than luxury. She worried about Robb every time the vehicle gave a jolt.

“I’m fine, Margie, really.” Robb reassured her, from where he was reclining on the seat beside her when she gave another sharp glance in his direction automatically. “Don’t fuss.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Margaery replied primly, reaching behind her to where Grey Wind was riding out the trip, along with their hurriedly packed bags. “Did I, Grey Wind?”

Grey Wind let out a low woof, and settled his head on the seat between his masters.

“Oh sure, take her side.” Robb teased, sticking his tongue out at his dog, ruffling Grey Wind’s fur.

Despite herself, Margaery chuckled. “I’m sure he’s just excited to be heading home.” She said easily. “I’ll admit I’m looking forward to seeing snow for the first time.”

“When I’m healed, we’ll have to have a snowball fight.” Robb teased. “Maybe I’ll even go easy on you.”

“Never go easy on me.” Margaery admonished, running a hand through his hair gently. “That’s one of the things I love about you. You don’t treat me like a fragile noblewoman without a thought in her head.”

“Because I’m not an idiot.” Robb scoffed. “But I am glad you’re coming to see Winterfell. I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.” Margaery reassured him with a smile. “But I’m here for you. I’d go wherever you wanted to in order to heal.”

* * *

 Winterfell couldn’t be more different than Highgarden, but it was no less regal or intimidating. Highgarden was intimidating because of the obvious opulence, meant to show that everyone had less than the Lords of Highgarden. Winterfell was imposing simply by existing, climbing out of the snows like a stone titan. Still, Margaery liked it. It had weight and presence. You could tell it was old and had existed far longer than you or anyone you had known, and while it was cold inside, it wasn’t as cold as she had imagined.

Lady Catelyn, however, made up for that. If she had been judging on demeanour she would have taken Eddard Stark for the Southern spouse and his wife for the Northerner. She suspected she knew why too. She didn’t approve of Margaery. That was fine, Margaery would do her best to win her over, but Catelyn wasn’t making it easy.

The room she had been given was a guest room, and actually colder than much of the castle. It was also, Margaery noted with a grimace, as far from the family rooms as was possible to be without being impolite. She punched her pillow again, tossing around under the heavy furs that had been provided to keep her warm, and then gave up.

She sneaked out of the room and down long hallways, inch by inch, as quietly as possible, until reaching Robb’s room. She inched the door open, holding her breath, and slid inside, despite the darkness.

“Took you long enough.” Robb chuckled.

“Don’t get any ideas.” Margaery scolded in a whisper, even as Robb turned on his bedside lamp. “You need to heal, and we both know I kick.”

“Only when I don’t wear you out first.” Robb teased.

Margaery huffed. “There will be no _wearing out_ until you are healed.” She scolded. She sighed slightly. “I just...can’t sleep without you nearby.”

Robb was confused. “You did it the whole time we were on tour.”

Margaery flushed red. “You sang me to sleep while you were on tour.”

“What?” Robb asked in confusion.

“The recording you made for me.” Margaery explained. “I played it to put myself to sleep.”

Even in the dim light cast by the lamp, she felt embarrassed by the look on Robb’s face, a combination of love and amazement and desire she knew well. “So I’m going to sleep on the floor.”

“It’s too cold.” Robb argued. “You’ll freeze.”

“You must have extra blankets around here somewhere.” Margaery argued.

Robb sighed. “There’s a sleeping bag in my closet, and a few thermal blankets, I guess, but the floor is stone, you’ll ruin your back.”

“If I can deal with the slabs that pass for beds in the on-call room, I can deal with this.” Margaery said stubbornly, searching through his closet and coming up with a bright orange sleeping bag, several furs and two thermal blankets. She made herself up a little bed on the floor by the lamplight, and settled in with a sigh.

Robb flicked the light off after Grey Wind had decided to do his part in keeping Margaery warm and laid across her legs. “Margie…” He whispered in the dark, reaching his uninjured arm down to brush her hand. “I love you.”

Margaery smiled, and clasped his hand in hers. “I love you too.”

* * *

 When Catelyn Stark came to check on Robb the next morning, she made a face at the scene she saw. Robb was fast asleep, his good arm extended, holding hands with the Tyrell girl, who was fast asleep in a makeshift bed on the floor. The scene thawed her concern a little, but she was by no means convinced about the girl’s intentions. She closed the door quietly and headed to her solar to think.


End file.
